MARCH 19TH

POOR RICHARD'S ALMANACK

An old Man in a House is a good Sign.

— Benjamin Franklin,1744

AMERICANREVOLUTION.ORG

A NAVAL HISTORY OF THE AMERICAN
REVOLUTION

CHAPTER XVIII

NAVAL PRISONERS

The lot of the prisoner of war has always
been an unhappy one at best; in early times put to the sword,
at a later day enslaved, and even in modern wars sometimes unavoidably
subjected to most unfavorable conditions in the exigencies of
a campaign. Civilized countries have at times permitted a treatment
of prisoners unnecessarily harsh and even cruel. At the outset
of a civil war the question arises whether or not the rebel shall
be dealt with as a traitor and criminal, but fear of reprisals
soon forces the virtual if not explicit recognition of belligerent
rights. Lord George Germain, writing to General Howe, February
1, 1776, in regard to some American officers captured on a privateer
by the British, says: "It is hoped that the possession of
these prisoners will enable you to procure the release of such
of his majesty's officers and loyal subjects as are in the disgraceful
situation of being prisoners to the rebels; for although it cannot
be that you should enter into any treaty or agreement with rebels
for a regular cartel for exchange of prisoners, yet I doubt not
but your own discretion will suggest to you the means of effecting
such exchange without the king's dignity and honor being committed
or His Majesty's name used in any negotiation for that purpose."
(Hist. Mag., March, 1862.) Here may be noted an intimation of
the bitterness commonly exhibited in civil strife, which is sometimes
conveniently visited upon the helpless prisoner. This should
impose upon governments and officers of rank an increased sense
of responsibility for the acts of subordinates. The accounts
of the treatment of prisoners in New York, unquestionably authentic
though perhaps colored by privation, are difficult to reconcile
with the undoubted humane character of some of the British officers
in command. The situation of the British at that place and their
resources could hardly have been such as to prevent the proper
care of prisoners.

At New York many buildings were converted
into prisons and several prison-ships were moored in the harbor,
especially in Wallabout Bay, where the Navy Yard at Brooklyn
now is. Most of the prisoners taken at sea were confined in these
hulks. There were probably prison-ships in most British harbors
frequented by cruising vessels, and other ships were at times
temporarily used for the purpose. The best known places in England
where Americans were confined were Mill Prison at Plymonth and
Forton Prison at Portsmouth.

The treatment of American prisoners by the
British gave rise to much discussion in Congress and to a voluminous
correspondence between commanding officers and commissaries of
prisoners. January 18, 1777, General Washington wrote to Admiral
Howe "on the subject of the cruel treatment which our officers
and men in the naval department, who are unhappy enough to fall
into your hands, receive on board the prisonships in the harbour
of New York." To General Howe on the same day he wrote:
"Those who have been lately sent out give the most shocking
account of their barbarous usage, which their miserable, emaciated
countenances confirm . . . Most of the prisoners who have returned
home [by exchange] have informed me that they were offered better
treatment provided they would enlist into your service. This
I believe is unprecedented; and what, if true, makes it still
more unnecessary for me to apologize for the freedom of expression
which I have used throughout this letter." (Washington,
v, 166,169,170.) Washington threatened retaliation. Admiral Howe
replied, January 17, that the reports of ill treatment were exaggerated,
that some prisoners having escaped, less liberty was allowed
than formerly and crowding made necessary, that the prisoners
had the same ration and medical attendance as British sailors.
May 28, Washington wrote to the President of Congress that many
of the prisoners released by the British were unfit for exchange
by reason of the severity of their treatment and that a deduction
should be made on their account. This was before the Jersey,
a dismantled sixty-four-gun ship, was brought to New York and
moored in Wallabout Bay, and became the most notorious of all
the prison- ships. In 1779, there was an improvement on board
these ships at New York, acknowledged by Washington and confirmed
by a letter from one of the prisoners. This was only temporary,
however, and a year or two later conditions were at their worst,
although an attempt at reform seems to have been made by Admiral
Graves in 1781 (Jour. Cont. Congr., resolves: December 7, 1776,
June 10, 1777, April 21, 1780, September 4, 18, 1781; committee
reports: December 7, 1776, January 7, 9, 1777; Pap. Cont. Congr.,
152, 3, 505, 4, 113 (Howe to Washington, January 23, April 21,1777),
5, 221 (Washington to Howe, November 23, 1777), 10, 233 (Affleck
to Washington, August 30, 1781); Washington, v, 170, 394, 423,
vi, 193, viii, 121, 338, ix, 119; Boston Gazette, September 17,1781.)

In addition to the practice, alluded to by
Washington, of tempting prisoners to enlist in the British service
by promises of better treatment, they were sometimes impressed,
and on board cruising ships also, at times, they were forced
to bear arms against their countrymen. In 1776, William Barry,
a prisoner on the Roebuck in Delaware Bay, and Elisha Cole, an
American shipmaster on the frigate Milford, were compelled to
do this, and both afterwards made depositions to the fact. In
retaliation Congress authorized Captain Biddle to take British
prisoners from jail to fill his complement. There are several
accounts, however, of humane treatment on board British cruising
ships and on prison-ships at Halifax and elsewhere. Captain Daniel
Lunt of Newburyport was well treated on board the British cruiser
Lively, which captured him off Cape Ann in 1776, although afterwards,
when transferred to the Renown, he and other shipmasters were
robbed of their money and put at hard labor. Joshua Barney was
treated with marked kindness on three different cruising ships
and with an equal degree of severity on two others. Nathaniel
Fanning, who was several times a prisoner, was robbed and maltreated
on two British vessels, but on other occasions fared very well.
In 1777, Captain Stephen Hills was well treated on a prison-ship
at Halifax, and in 1782 eighty-one Americans at the same place,
and others in a hospital there, had the best of care. In 1781,
Captain Tucker of the privateer Thorn escaped from the Island
of St. John's (Prince Edward Island) and reported that he had
been very kindly treated there. The same year some prisoners
who. arrived in Salem from Newfoundland acknowledged "the
very humane and benevolent treatment which they received from
Admiral Edwards." The next year nearly three hundred Americans
were brought home from there in a cartel (Am. Arch. IV, v, 759,
vi, 809, V, ii, 538; Pap. Cont. Congr., 19, 3, 581 (December
7, 1776) ; Barney, 51, 66, 70, 86; Fanning, 14-18, 144-148, 229-238;
A. Sherburne, 49-76; Tucker, 163; Boston Gazette, September 30,
1776, July 28, 1777; Mass. Spy, September 11, 1776; Independent
Chronicle, February 5, 1778 ; Continental Journal, August 23,
1781; Salem Gazette, November 15, 1781, July 18, October 17,
1782.; Boston Post, July 20, 1782; Hunt's Mag., February, 1857.

Many years after the war Nathaniel Bowditch
told the following Revolutionary anecdote, which had been related
to him by his father: "Capt. Tuck of Manchester in a small
privateer was taken by a British vessel of war, & his crew
was carried on board & detained as prisoners. Cruising afterwards
on the eastern shore, the vessel struck on a sunken ledge at
some distance from a small island then in sight and soon bilged.
Their situation soon became extremely dangerous, the greatest
confusion prevailed on board, and the British seamen finding
that none of the stores on board the ship could possibly be saved,
procured from the store room considerable quantities of rum &
drank so freely that they soon became incapable of doing their
duty, and in getting out the boats bilged & lost them. Their
situation now became desperate, they seemed to have no chance
of saving their lives, as the crew were so disorderly and incompetent
of doing their duty. Capt. Tuck then proposed to the British
commander to make a raft out of the spars, yards, &c. of
the ship and offered his services in doing it, provided he could
have it under his own direction, with none to assist except the
American prisoners, most of whom were free from intoxication.
This offer was cheerfully accepted & he made out to get the
crew safely ashore without losing a man, but before anything
else could be got from the ship, she went to pieces. The British
Commander on the Halifax Station liberated Capt. T. and his crew
without parole or exchange, on account of his services."
(Pickering MSS., xxx, 415.)

In June, 1778, Robert Sheffield, a shipmaster
of Stonington, Connecticut, made his escape from one of the New
York prison-ships after a confinement of only six days. There
were three hundred and fifty men on board confined below, although
it is to be presumed that they were allowed on deck in the daytime,
as was the custom. Sheffield says the heat was "so intense
that they were all naked . . . Their sickly countenances and
ghastly looks were truly horrible, some swearing and blaspheming,
some crying, praying and wringing their hands and stalking about
like ghosts, others delirious, raving and storming; some groaning
and dying, all panting for breath; some dead and corrupting,
air so foul at times that a lamp could not be kept burning, by
reason of which the boys were not missed till they had been dead
ten days." There were five or six deaths a day (Conn. Gazette,
July 10, 1778, quoted in Onderdonk's Revolutionary Incidents,
227, 228.) Captain John Chester wrote to General Webb, January
17, 1777: "The inhuman treatment our prisoners met with
while in New York is beyond all description. Humanity cannot
but drop a tear at sight of the poor, miserable, starved objects.
They are mere skeletons, unable to creep or speak in many instances.
One vessel lost 27 in her passage from New York to Milford [Connecticut],
and 7 died the night they were put ashore; and they are dying
all along the road." (Correspondence of General Webb, i,
184.) According to a report from Boston, February 4, 1779, "a
cartel lately brought 136 prisoners from prison-ships in N.Y.
to N. London. Such was the condition in which these poor creatures
were put aboard the cartel, that in this short run 16 died on
board and 60, when they landed, were scarcely able to move, and
the remainder greatly emaciated." (Onderdonk, 229.) The
most favorable account comes from Daniel Stanton, who writes
from Stonington, August 28, 1779: "I was taken with a number
of others on or about the 5th of June last in the ship Oliver
Cromwell, carried into New York and put on the Prison Ship Jersey.
There was nothing plundered from us, we were kindly used by the
Captain and others that belonged to the ship. Our Sick were attended
by Physicians who appeared very Officious to recover them to
health. Our Allowance for Subsistance was wholesome and in reasonable
Plenty, including the Allowance by the Continental Congress sent
on Board. About three or four weeks past we were removed on board
the Prison Ship Good Hope, where we found many sick; there is
now a hospital ship provided, to which they are removed and good
Attention paid, and doubt not the same Hospitality is used towards
those of the Enemy, where the Fortune of War has cast into our
hands. On the whole we were as humanely treated as our Condition
and the Enemy's Safety would admit." (Conn. Gazette, September
1, 1779, quoted in Papers New London Hist. Soc., IV, i, 44.)
Another good account is given by Captain Thomas Dring and others
who escaped from the Good Hope (N. J. Gazette, October 12, 1779,
quoted in Onderdonk, 230.) According to Joshua Barney, a prisoner
in 1778, Admiral Byron during his short stay on the station took
great pains to improve as far as possible the conditions on New
York prison-ships (Barney, 74.) These conditions probably varied
from time to time according to the characters of different officers
and subordinates in charge, and according to the weather and
other circumstances, especially the number of prisoners on board.
The Continental Congress provided the means for supplying the
prisoners at New York with extra food and appointed a merchant
named Pintard as agent to look after them (Pap. Cont. Congr.,
37, 322 (October 6, 1780).)

Philip Freneau, the poet, was a passenger
on the armed ship Aurora of Philadelphia, which was captured
after an hour's engagement by the British frigate Iris, May 26,
1780, and taken to New York. Freneau was sent on board the prison-ship
Scorpion in the North River, where he was "almost suffocated
with the heat and stench." He relates that on the night
of June 4 "about thirty-five of our people formed a design
of making their escape, in which they were favored by a large
schooner accidentally alongside of us . . . We were then suffered
to continue upon deck, if we chose, till nine o'clock. We were
all below by that time except the insurgents, who rushed upon
the sentries and disarmed them in a moment," and drove them
into the cabin. "When the sentries were all silent they
manned the ship's boat and boarded the schooner, though the people
on board attempted to keep them off with hand-spikes. The wind
blowing fresh at south and the flood of tide being made, they
hoisted sail and were out of sight in a few minutes . . . As
soon as the sentries got possession of the vessel again, which
they had no difficulty in doing, as there was no resistance made,
they posted themselves at each hatchway and most basely and cowardly
fired fore and aft among us, pistols and musquets, for a full
quarter of an hour without intermission. By the mercy of God
they touched but four, one mortally." The next morning "all
that were found wounded were put in irons and ordered to lie
upon deck, exposed to the burning sun. About four o'clock P.M.,
one of the poor fellows who had been wounded the night before
died. They then took him out of irons, sent him on shore, and
buried him. After this no usage seemed to them severe enough
for us. We had water given us to drink that a dog could scarcely
relish; it was thick and clammy and had a dismal smell. They
withdrew our allowance of rum and drove us down every night strictly
at sunset, where we suffered inexpressibly till seven. o'clock
in the morning, the gratings being rarely opened before that
time. Thus did I live with my miserable companions till the 22d
of June. When finding myself taken with a fever, I procured myself
to be put on the sick list, and the same day was sent with a
number of others to the Hunter hospital-ship, lying in the East
River. Here was a new scene opened. The Hunter had been very
newly put to the use of a hospital-ship. She was miserably dirty
and cluttered. Her decks leaked to such a degree that the sick
were deluged with every shower of rain. Between decks they lay
along, struggling in the agonies of death, dying with putrid
and bilious fevers, lamenting their hard fate to die at such
a fatal distance from their friends; others totally insensible
and yielding their last breath in all the horrors of light-headed
frenzy." (Freneau's Capture of the Aurora, 15-41.)

In the fall of 1780, Captain Silas Talbot
was confined on the Jersey. There were then about eleven hundred
prisoners on board, with no berths to lie in nor benches to sit
on; many were almost without clothes. Dysentery and fever prevailed.
The scantiness and bad quality of the provisions, the brutality
of the guards, and the sick pining for comforts they could not
obtain, altogether furnished one of the greatest scenes of human
distress ever beheld. The weather was cool and dry, with frosty
nights, so that the number of deaths was reduced to an average
of ten a day, which was small compared with the mortality for
three months before. The human bones and skulls still bleaching
on the shore of Long Island as late as 1803, and daily exposed
by the falling of the high bank on which the prisoners were buried,
was a shocking sight (Historical Sketch of Silas Talbot, 106-109.)
A few years after that these bones were collected and buried
and a monument erected over them.

Ebenezer Fox, describing the Jersey as she
was in 1781, says: "Her external appearance was forbidding
and gloomy. She was dismantled; her only spars were the bowsprit,
a derrick that looked like a gallows, for hoisting supplies on
board, and a flagstaff at the stern. The port-holes were closed
and secured. Two tiers of holes were cut through her sides, about
two feet square and about ten feet apart, strongly guarded by
a grating of iron bars." (Fox, 96.) Fox and his shipmates
upon their arrival "were ordered to ascend to the upper
deck of the prison ship. Here our names were registered . . .
Each of us was permitted to retain whatever clothing and bedding
we had brought, after having been examined" for weapons
and money; "and then we were directed to pass through a
strong door on the starboard side, down a ladder leading to the
main hatchway. I now found myself in a loathsome prison, among
a collection of the most wretched and disgusting looking objects
that I ever beheld in human form. Here was a motley crew, covered
with rags and filth, visages pallid with disease, emaciated with
hunger and anxiety, and retaining hardly a trace of their original
appearance." (Fox, 99.) "The various messes of the
prisoners [of six men each] were numbered, and nine in the morning
was the hour when the steward would deliver from the window in
his room, at the after part of the ship, the allowance granted
. . . Each mess received daily what was equivalent in weight
or measure, but not in quality, to the rations of four men at
full allowance; that is, each prisoner received two thirds as
much as was allowed to a seaman in the British navy. Our bill
of fare was as follows: on Sunday, one pound of biscuit, one
pound of pork and half a pint of peas; Monday, one pound of biscuit,
one pint of oatmeal and two ounces of butter; Tuesday, one pound
of biscuit and two pounds of salt beef; Wednesday, one and a
half pounds of flour and two ounces of suet. Thursday was a repetition
of Sunday's fare, Friday of Monday's and Saturday of Tuesday's.
If this food had been of a good quality and properly cooked,
as we had no labor to perform, it would have kept us comfortable,
at least from suffering. But this was not the case. All our food
appeared to be damaged." (Fox, 101-102.) "The cooking
for the prisoners was done in a great copper vessel that contained
between two and three hogsheads of water, set in brick work.
The form of it was square and it was divided into two compartments
by a partition. In one of these the peas and oatmeal were boiled;
this was done in fresh water. In the other the meat was boiled
in salt water taken up from alongside the ship. The Jersey, from
her size and lying near the shore, was imbedded in the mud .
. . All the filth that accumulated among upwards of a thousand
men was daily thrown overboard and would remain there till carried
away by the tide. The impurity of the water may be easily conceived;
and in this water our meat was boiled." (Fox, 105-106.)

"In the morning the prisoners were permitted
to ascend the upper deck, to spend the day till ordered below
at sunset. A certain number, who were for the time called the
'working party,' performed in rotation the duty of bringing up
hammocks and bedding for airing, likewise the sick and infirm
and the bodies of those who had died during the night; of these
there were generally a number every morning. After these services
it was their duty to wash the decks. . . . About two hours before
sunset, orders were given to the prisoners to carry all their
things below, but we were permitted to remain above till we retired
for the night. . . . At sunset our ears were saluted with the
insulting and hateful sound from our keepers, of 'Down, rebels,
down,' and we were hurried below, the hatchways fastened over
us and we were left to pass the night amid the accumulated horrors
of sighs and groans, of foul vapor, a nauseous and putrid atmosphere,
in a stifled and almost suffocating heat. The tiers of holes
through the sides of the ship were strongly grated, but not provided
with glass, and it was considered a privilege to sleep near one
of these apertures in hot weather ... But little sleep, however,
could be enjoyed even there, for the vermin were so horribly
abundant that all the personal cleanliness we could practise
would not protect us from their attacks." When the dead,
sewn in blankets, were taken ashore, some of the prisoners went
with them, "under a guard, to perform the labor of interment
. . . Here in a bank near the Wallabout a hole was excavated
in the sand, in which the body was put and then slightly covered,
the guard not giving time sufficient to perform this melancholy
service in a faithful manner. Many bodies would, in a few days
after this mockery of a burial, be exposed nearly bare by the
action of the elements." (Fox, 109-111.)

Thomas Andros was also on the Jersey in 1781,
and says: "When I first became an inmate of this abode of
suffering, despair and death, there were about four hundred prisoners
on board, but in a short time they amounted to twelve hundred.
And in proportion to our numbers the mortality increased."
(Andros, Old Jersey Captive, 12.) Dysentery, smallpox, and yellow
fever were prevalent. "Now and then an American physician
was brought in as a captive, but if he could obtain his parole
he left the ship, nor could we much blame him for this. For his
own death was next to certain and his success in saving others
by medicine in our situation was small. I remember only two American
physicians who tarried on board a few days. No English physician
or any one from the city ever to my knowledge came near us."
(Andros, 15.) "Our water was good, could we have had enough
of it; our bread was bad in the superlative degree. I do not
recollect seeing any which was not full of living vermin; but
eat it, worms and all, we must or starve." (Andros, 17.)
Andros eventually escaped. Attempts to escape from the prison-ships
were frequent and not uncommonly successful. The crew of the
Jersey consisted of a captain, two mates, a steward, a cook,
and about a dozen sailors, besides a guard of ten or twelve invalid
marines and about thirty soldiers. By eluding the vigilance of
these guards, or perhaps bribing a sentry, it was sometimes possible
to get away from the ship in a boat or by swimming. Upon reaching
shore, however, fugitives had many difficulties to encounter,
especially the unfriendliness of the tory population of Long
Island (lbid., 24 et seq.; Fox, ch. viii. For other experiences
of prisoners, see Dring's Recollections of Jersey Prison Ship;
Taylor's Martyrs in the Prison-Ships; A. Sherburne, ch. v; Hist.
Mag., July, 1866 (Suppl.); Mag. Amer. Hist., March, 1878, Matthewman's
narrative.)

The method of exchange for the relief of the
prisoners' sufferings was not as generally applicable as could
have been wished, partly because the supply of British in the
hands of the Americans was inadequate. British prisoners were
released in large numbers by their American captors, especially
privateersmen, because they had no means of supporting them,
often, apparently, neglecting to take their paroles. Washington
stated his views on the subject in a letter to the President
of Congress, February 18, 1782, saying: "Mr. Sproat's proposition
of the exchange of British soldiers for American seamen, if acceded
to, will immediately give the enemy a very considerable reinforcement
and will be a constant draft hereafter upon the prisoners of
war in our hands. It ought also to be considered that few or
none of the naval prisoners in New York and elsewhere belong
to the Continental service. I however feel for the situation
of these unfortunate people and wish to see them released by
any mode which will not materially affect the public good. In
some former letters upon this subject I have mentioned a plan
by which I am certain they might be liberated nearly as fast
as captured. It is by obliging the captains of all armed vessels,
both public and private, to throw their prisoners into common
stock, under the direction of the commissary-general of prisoners.
By these means they would be taken care of and regularly applied
to the exchange of those in the hands of the enemy. Now the greater
part are dissipated and the few that remain are applied partially."
(Washington, ix, 444. See negotiations for a general cartel for
the exchange of prisoners, in Webb, ii, 19-85.) Washington corresponded
with various British naval commanders during the last two years
of the war and received replies from Admiral Arbuthnot, Captain
Affleck, and Admiral Digby, expressing concern at the prisoners'
plight and a purpose to apply remedies. General Carleton also
made plans in 1782 to correct abuses. The American and British
commissaries of prisoners, Abraham Skinner and David Sproat,
also corresponded freely on the subjects of treatment and exchange
of prisoners. Whether or not as a result of these efforts, conditions
seem to have improved in June, 1782, according to the report
of six American shipmasters on parole, "that they had been
on board the prison and hospital ships to inspect the state of
the American naval prisoners and found them in as comfortable
situation as it is possible for prisoners to be on board ships
and much better than they had an idea of." This report was
published about two weeks after a letter from Washington to Digby
on the subject (Almon, xiv, 262, 263; Onderdonk, 233-235, 240-244;
Mar. Com. Letter Book, 261, 262; Mass. Spy, August 8, 1782.)

The Americans captured in European waters
and many also from this side of the ocean were sent to prisons
in England. The American Commissioners in Paris began early to
interest themselves in the welfare of these prisoners, and Franklin
especially, until the end of the war, was untiring in his efforts
to mitigate their hardships. February 23, 1777, began a correspondence
of the commissioners with Stormont, the British ambassador, in
regard to the exchange of prisoners, which defined the positions
of the two nations on the subject at that time. They wrote: "Captain
Wickes of the Reprisal frigate, belonging to the United States
of America, has now in his hands near one hundred British seamen,
prisoners. He desires to know whether an exchange may be made
for an equal number of American seamen now prisoners in England?
We take the liberty of proposing this matter to your Lordship
and of requesting your opinion (if there be no impropriety in
your giving it) whether such an exchange will probably be agreed
to by your Court. If your people cannot be soon exchanged here,
they will be sent to America." (Sparks's Franklin, ix, 166.)

No reply was received to this and on April
2 they wrote again: "We did ourselves the Honour of writing
some time since to your Lordship on the Subject of Exchanging
Prisoners. You did not condescend to give us any Answer and therefore
we expect none to this. We however take the Liberty of sending
you Copies of certain Depositions, which we shall transmit to
Congress, whereby it will be known to your Court that the United
States are not unacquainted with the barbarous Treatment their
People receive, when they have the Misfortune of being your Prisoners
here in Europe. And that if your Conduct towards us is not altered,
it is not unlikely that severe Reprisals may be thought justifiable,
from the Necessity of putting some Check to such abominable Practices.
For the sake of Humanity it is to be wish'd that Men would endeavour
to alleviate as much as possible the unavoidable Misseries attending
a State of War. It has been said that among the civilized Nations
of Europe the ancient Horrors of that State are much diminished,
but the Compelling Men by Chains, Stripes & Famine, to fight
against their Friends and Relations, is a new Mode of Barbarity
which your Nation alone has the Honour of inventing. And the
sending American Prisoners of War to Africa and Asia, remote
from all Probability of Exchange and where they can scarce hope
ever to hear from their Families, even if the Unwholesomeness
of the Climate does not put a speedy End to their Lives, is a
manner of treating Captives that you can justify by no Precedent
or Custom, except that of the black Savages of Guinea."
(Smyth's Franklin, vii, 36.) The following message, unsigned
and undated, was received in reply: "The King's Ambassador
receives no applications from rebels but when they come to implore
His Majesty's Mercy." The commissioners then closed the
correspondence: "In answer to a letter which concerns some
of the most material interests of humanity and of the two nations,
Great Britain and the United States of America, now at war, we
received the inclosed indecent paper as coming from your Lordship,
which we return for your Lordship's, more mature consideration."
(Sparks, ix, 167.)

Stormont sent copies of the letter of April
2 and his unsigned reply to Lord Weymouth and with them the following:
"I send your Lordship a Copy of a very Extraordinary and
Insolent Letter, that has just been left at my House by a Person
who called himself an English Gentleman; I thought it by no means
Proper to appear to have received and kept such a Letter, and
therefore, My Lord, instantly sent it Back by a Savoyard, seemingly
unopened, under Cover to Mr. Carmichel, who I discovered to be
the Person that had brought the Letter." (Stevens, 1507;
Smyth, vii, 36.) Weymouth wrote to Stormont April 11: "I
entirely approve of the note Your Excellency sent to Mr. Carmichael
with the Letter you returned to him. The Style and Subject deserved
no other treatment." (Stevens, 1503, 1507, 1515; Almon,
v, 371, 372, 511; Hale, i, 194-198.)

The brig Dalton of Newburyport was taken in
December, 1776, by the sixty-four-gun ship Raisonable. The crew
were sent to Plymouth, England, where after a while they were
transferred to the Burford of seventy guns, Captain George Bowyer.
Here their fortunes, which had been hard, made a great change
for the better. Each man was given an outfit of clothes and bedding,
provided by the captain at his own expense. They were well fed
and kindly treated. This was also the case in the hospital on
shore, where the sick had the best care. After several weeks
on the Burford they were transferred to another ship and early
in June, 1777, to Mill Prison, near Plymouth, which had been
prepared for them. They were committed on the charge of high
treason, to await trial, and could only be released on receiving
the King's pardon. Two members of the Dalton's crew, Charles
Herbert and Samuel Cutler, kept journals in prison. Cutler says
the ration "is 3/4 lb. beef, 1 lb. bread, 1 qt. very ordinary
beer, and a few greens per man for 24 hours. The beef when boiled
weighs about 6 oz. This is our allowance daily, except Saturday,
when we have 6 oz. cheese instead of the beef. To sleep upon,
we have a hammock, straw bed and one very thin rug . . . We are
allowed every day to walk in the airing ground from 10 to 12,
then locked in till 3 o'clock, then we are let out again till
7 o'clock, then in and locked up for the night." (N. E.
Hist. and Gen. Reg., April, 1878.)

Herbert wrote, August 31: "Many are strongly
tempted to pick up the grass in the yard and eat it and some
pick up old bones in the yard that have been laying in the dirt
a week or ten days and pound them to pieces and suck them. Some
will pick up snails out of the holes in the wall and from among
the grass and weeds in the yard, boil them and eat them and drink
the broth . . . Our meat is very poor in general; we scarcely
see a good piece once in a month. Many are driven to such necessity
by want of provisions that they have sold most of the clothes
off their backs for the sake of getting a little money to buy
them some bread." (Livesey's Prisoners of 1776, 65, 66.)
Some of the prisoners were able occasionally to earn a few shillings
with which to buy extra food and other necessities. Andrew Sherburne,
who was in Mill Prison in 1782, says there were between eight
hundred and a thousand men confined there at that time (A. Sherburne,
85. For an English account, see Annual Register, xxi (1778),
78.)

In September, 1777, an improvement began and
continued for more than a year. This was due to outside causes
and did not indicate any relaxation of severity on the part of
the government or prison authorities. The sympathies of charitable
people in London and elsewhere had been aroused and a fund was
subscribed which furnished extra food and clothing (Livesey,
68, 70, 91, 92, 96.) Jonathan Archer wrote to his parents from
Mill Prison, September 25, 1778: "The time seems long and
teagous to me; I shall embrace every opportunity of writing.
We have plenty of provisions; the gentlemen have raised a large
sum of money for the relief of the Americans." (Essex Inst.
Coll., June, 1864.) Letters of Franklin to correspondents in
England also did much to excite interest in the prisoners (Wharton,
ii, 409, 410, 448, 492.) When the money that had been raised
for their benefit had become exhausted, about the end of 1778,
the old conditions returned. The prisoners hunted for rats, and
if a dog strayed in, he was immediately killed and eaten. To
be put upon half allowance, as many frequently were for punishment,
was to be reduced nearly to the last extremity. Nevertheless,
the health of the prisoners as a rule was good, and the death
rate, at least for the first two years, compared with that of
the New York prison-ships, was very low. Early in 1782, however,
there was much sickness (Livesey, 109, 123, 166, 175, 186, 196,
201, 203, 207, 216, 218; A. Sherburne, 91.)

After France, Spain, and Holland had become
involved in the war, the prisoners from those countries were
better treated than the Americans, whose allowance of bread was
a third less than theirs. In the House of Lords, July 2, 1781,
an effort was made to place the Americans on an equality in this
respect with the French, Spanish, and Dutch, but the proposal
was defeated by a vote of forty-seven to fourteen. In the course
of the debate on the question it was argued "that the diet
of prisoners, as persons in a state of inactivity, ought to be
sparing, and that just enough to sustain life ought to be the
measure of it; for that if more than enough was allowed, it would
render the prisoners unhealthy by producing gross humours if
they eat it, or if they sold what was superabundant, it was probable
they would buy spirits with it and thereby render themselves
unhealthy and unhappy." (Almon, xii, 222, 223; Mag. Amer.
Hist., June, 1882.) Very touching was this solicitude of the
Lords for the health of the American prisoners. Their old enemies,
the French and Spanish, might be encouraged to ruin their digestions
by overeating, but in the case of their kinsmen from across the
sea, it was not to be thought of.

Captain Conyngham's experiences in captivity
have been alluded to. After his escape he wrote to Franklin from
the Texel, December 1, 1779: "I shall acquaint you of the
many favours I received since I became a captive. 1st, in New
York, that Sir George Collier ordered irons on my legs, with
a centry on board the ship. Mr. Collier going on an expedition
ordered me to jaole, there put me into the condemned room. The
first night a cold plank my bed a stone for a pillow. 2d night
allowed a something to lay on; in this horrid room was kept for
eight days without the least morsel of bread, or anything but
water, from the keeper of the prison ... After expostulating
of the impropriety of such treatment, [the jailer] told me he
had such orders, but would take it upon himself to release me
on my giving him my strongest assurances I would not make my
escape. I readily consented, it not being in the power of man
to get out of the condemned room . . . In the prison of New York
I continued till that tyrant Collier returned ... Then I was
told to get ready to go on board the prison-ship . . . Then a
pair of criminal irons put on my legs, weight 50 pounds; at the
door, put into the hangman's cart, all in form as if bound to
the gallows. I was then put into a boat and took alongside the
Raisonable . . . to be sent to England in the packet. In those
Irons I was brought to Pendennis Castle. Then not contented,
they manacled my hands with a new fashioned pair of ruffels fitted
very tite. In this condition I was kept there 15 or 16 days,
then brought to Plymouth and lodged in the black hole for eight
days, before they would do me the honour of committing me on
suspicion of high treason on his majesties high seas; then put
into Mill prison, where we committed treason through his earth
and made our escape. This, Sir, is an account of their favors,
insults excepted. I must acquaint your excellency that the poor
unfortunate prisoners in Plymouth are in a most distressed situation."
(Hale, i, 349; Almon, viii, 340.)

Attempts to escape from Mill Prison were numerous,
sometimes by climbing over the walls, sometimes by burrowing
under them, and sometimes by bribing sentries, the last generally
by officers who had money. Among the officers confined at this
place were Captains Manley, Talbot, Johnson, and O'Brien, and
Lieutenants Dale and Barney. Of these the last four escaped,
besides Conyngham; Manley and Talbot made several attempts. Most
prisoners' efforts in this direction failed, but in the aggregate
a large number got off and made their way to Holland and France.
At Paris they found a good friend in Franklin, who gave them
money and assistance to the extent of his ability. Those who
were caught after escaping were brought back, confined forty
days in a dungeon called the "black hole," and put
upon half allowance of food (Livesey, 56-60, passim, 209-213;
Barney, 87-102; O'Brien, 180-183; Port Folio, June, 1814; N.
E. Hist. and Gen. Reg., October, 1878; Essex Inst. Coll., January,
1909; Lee MSS., February 28, 1778; Adams MSS., July 16, 1780,
June 5, 1781.) Some escaped by entering the British service,
yielding to inducements constantly held out to them. Those doing
so were comparatively few in number, and most of them were foreigners
who had served on American ships. In December, 1778, over a hundred
men in Mill Prison signed an agreement to remain loyal to their
country and under no circumstances to enter the British service
(Livesey, 161, 163, 177, 183, 208, 221.) In June, 1778, rumors
of exchange began to be heard, which for many months seemed only
to hold out false hopes. In September, the American Commissioners
in Paris wrote to their countrymen in English prisons that they
had at last "obtained assurances from England that an exchange
shall take place." They added: "We have now obtained
permission of this government to put all British prisoners -
whether taken by continental frigates or by privateers - into
the king's prisons, and we are determined to treat such prisoners
precisely as our countrymen are treated in England, to give them
the same allowance of provisions and accommodations and no other.
We therefore request you to inform us with exactness what your
allowance is from the government, that we may govern ourselves
accordingly." (Wharton, ii, 729, 730.) It was not until
March 15, 1779, that hopes of release were realized and ninety-seven
of the inmates of Mill Prison embarked on a cartel bound for
France (Livesey, 139, 141, 179, 182, 199, 200, 219, 223, 224,
233; Wharton, iii, 188. For another account of conditions on
board a receiving-ship in Plymouth Harbor and in Mill Prison,
see A. Sherburne, 76-100; see also journal of William Russell
in Ships and Sailors of Old Salem, chs. vii, viii.)

The brigantine Rising States sailed from Boston,
January 26, 1777, and on April 15 was captured in the English
Channel by the Terrible, 74, though only after a spirited resistance.
Two weeks later the Terrible arrived at Spithead and the prisoners
remained on board until June 14, harshly treated and on three
quarters allowance. They were then removed to Forton Prison,
near Portsmouth, being the first Americans to occupy it. Their
experiences are told in the journal of Timothy Connor, one of
the crew of the Rising States. The prison ration was three quarters
of a pound of beef, a pound of bread, and a quart of small beer
for twenty-four hours, and some cabbage every other day. Prisoners
in the black hole, for trying to escape or other misdemeanor,
had six ounces of beef, half a pound of bread, and a pint of
beer. Five days after entrance the prisoners "made a large
hole through the wall of the prison and eleven made their escape,"
two of whom were caught and brought back. During the first six
months more than sixty escaped, about half of whom were retaken.
December 25, Connor says: "Now the people begin to use humanity
throughout England . . . They begin to use us better. There are
subscription books opened in many parts of England for our relief."
(N. E. Hist. and Gen. Reg., July, 1876.) The officers were given
five shillings a week each and the men two shillings. The Reverend
Thomas Wren of Portsmouth took a great interest in the prisoners
and visited them daily. David Hartley, M.P., one of Franklin's
English correspondents and an old friend of his, also visited
the prison. Besides the fund raised in England, Franklin sent
over what money he could spare, to be used for the benefit of
the prisoners. Much of this was entrusted to an American merchant
in London named Digges, who a few years later turned out to be
a British spy and a defaulter and who embezzled nearly all the
money he had received for the use of the prisoners (Wharton,
ii, 492, iii, 523, iv, 623, 645; Hale, i, ch. xi; Adams MSS.,
July 10, 1778.) May 12, 1778, Connor wrote in his journal: "Nothing
to eat these two days but stinking beef. All the men in the prison,
or at least best part of them, carried their beef back and threw
it into the cook's window, and left and went without any."
The next day the bad meat was served again, "but by the
Agent's orders it was sent back again and we got a little cheese
in the room of it." (N.E. Hist and Gen. Reg., July 1876)
Captain Hinman of the Alfred and his officers were brought to
Forton Prison in July, 1778, and in less than a week he and several
other officers escaped. September 8, fifty-eight prisoners escaped.
In March, 1779, there were two hundred and fifty-one Americans
at Forton. July 2, one hundred and twenty of them were released
by exchange (lbid., April, 1876, to July, 1878; Essex Inst. Coll.,
April, 1889; Mag. Amer. Hist., March, 1878, Matthewman's narrative;
Wharton, iii, 363. For another account of Forton Prison, see
Fanning, 20-28.)

John Howard, the English prison reformer,
wrote of Forton: "At my visit, Nov. 6, 1782, I found there
was no separation of the Americans from other prisoners of war,
and they had the same allowance of bread, viz: one pound and
a half each. There were 154 French, 83 Dutch and 133 Americans.
Of these, 12 French, 25 Dutch and 9 Americans were in the hospital.
The wards were not clean. No regulations hung up. I weighed several
of the 6 lb. loaves and they all wanted some ounces in weight."
(Essex Inst. Coll., April, 1889, quoting from Howard's History
of Prisons.)

In the West Indies the unhealthfulness of
the climate doubtless added to the tribulations of prisoners
and increased the death rate. In 1782, the privateer brig New
Broom of New London was captured by a British sloop of war and
taken into Antigua. One of the brig's crew, in a narrative of
the cruise, says: "We were all put on board of a prison-ship,
which lay in a cove on one side of the harbor, where the heat
was so severe as to be almost insupportable. We were allowed
here but barely enough to sustain nature, and the water they
gave us was taken out of a pond a little back of the town, in
which the cattle and negroes commingled every sort of impurity,
and which was rendered, on this account and from the effect of
the heat upon it, so nauseous that it was impossible to drink
it without holding the nostrils. I soon found that life was to
be supported but for a short time here and set myself therefore
about contriving some way to effect my escape from this floating
place of misery and torment. The doctor came on board every morning
to examine the sick, and three negro sextons every night, to
bury the dead. Early one morning I swallowed tobacco juice and
was so sick by the time the doctor came, that I obtained without
difficulty a permit from him to go on shore to the hospital.
I was soon ready to disembark, for I had been previously robbed
of everything except what I had on. After arriving at the hospital,
I was conducted into a long room where lay more than two hundred
of the most miserable objects imaginable, covered with rags and
vermin. I threw myself down on a bunk and after suffering extremely
for some time from the effects of the tobacco, went to sleep,
but was soon waked by a man-nurse, who told me that there was
physic for me and immediately went off to another. I contrived
unperceived to throw my dose out of the window and was not again
disturbed, except during the following night, when I was waked
several times by the carrying out of the dead. The sickness occasioned
by the tobacco having now ceased, it was still necessary to keep
up the deception, and accordingly the next morning I feigned
lameness." A few days later this prisoner escaped with two
others; getting possession of a boat they found their way to
Guadeloupe (Hist. Mag., November, 1860.) In 1779, the Marine
Committee had called attention to the harsh treatment of prisoners
at Antigua and urged efforts for their exchange (Mar. Com. Letter
Book, 243 (October 26,1779).)

There appears to be less available material
for a study of the treatment of British prisoners by the Americans.
Before France became involved in the war the disposal of prisoners
taken by American cruisers in European waters was attended with
difficulties, because the French government would not allow them
to be brought into the ports of that country, regarding it as
a violation of neutrality to receive them. It was, therefore,
often necessary to release them. Franklin and Deane advised the
commanders of American ships to take from their prisoners, before
letting them go, a signed acknowledgment of the fact that they
had been captured. They hoped to secure in return the release
of an equal number of American prisoners, but the British government
would not admit any obligation in such cases, and indeed refused
to honor formal paroles, except under certain circumstances.
After France had begun hostilities, American vessels could bring
their prisoners into port, but there was no provision for their
reception until, after long delay, they were admitted into French
prisons. Meanwhile it was necessary to keep them on shipboard
under conditions of great discomfort, if not of actual suffering.
The prisoners brought into Brest by the Ranger in May, 1778,
were confined many months on one of her prizes and made bitter
complaints of their situation. Captain Jones exerted himself
as far as possible for their welfare, but was very unwilling
to release them without exchange. Franklin supplied as well as
he could the wants of the British prisoners in France. In February,
1780, he wrote to one of his English correspondents, enclosing
the account of his agent at L'Orient, "for clothing one
hundred and thirteen English prisoners last April," and
adding: "Not that I expect anything from your government
on that account towards clothing such of our people with you
as may be in want of it. The refusal of compliance with the paroles
of prisoners set at liberty have taught me to flatter myself
no more with expectations that a thing may be done because it
is humane or equitable, and reasonable that it should be done.
I only desire it may be considered as a small but grateful acknowledgment,
all hitherto in my power, for the kindness shown by your charitable
subscriptions to our poor people. It may perhaps be some satisfaction
to those subscribers to know that, while they thought only of
relieving Americans, they were at the same time occasioning some
relief to distressed Englishmen." (Wharton, iii, 522.) When
the exchange of prisoners had become an established procedure,
the number of English in France must have been comparatively
small and their stay short, for the British policy was to keep
many American prisoners in England, bringing them from New York
9lbid., ii, 428, 581, 724, iii, 73, 488, 491, 535, 536, iv, 410;
Hale, i, 351-362; Sands, 104, 105, 148; Mass. Spy, January 4,
1781.)

The Continental vessels Reprisal, Lexington,
and Dolphin made a cruise in the English Channel and Irish Sea
in 1777 and took several prizes. According to a dispatch from
Whitehaven, June 26, 1777, "the people in general speak
in the warmest terms of the humane treatment they met with from
the commanders of the Reprisal and Lexington, both of whom endeavored
to make the situation of their prisoners as easy as their circumstances
would admit." (Boston Gazette, October 6, 1777.)

Quite different from this was the treatment
of Captain Richard Cassedy of the British ship Priscilla by a
prize crew put on board his vessel from the American privateer
General Mifflin, which captured the Priscilla off the Irish coast
in July, 1777. All his men having been transferred to the Mifflin,
he was left alone at the mercy of a brutal prize crew. "These
sons of freedom seized all the captain's clothes that were worth
anything and £88 in cash." He was "bound hand
and foot and put into confinement. In this miserable situation
he remained until the 19th of July, when his vessel was retook
by the Union, letter of marque, of London . . . Captain Cassedy
was in a very poor state of health ... and not able to stand,
through the cruel treatment he received. His remaining so long
bound occasioned his flesh to swell to a shocking degree. All
his prayers and intreaties were in vain; the inhuman tyrants
had no compassion." (Liverpool paper quoted in Williams,
210.)

The treatment of British prisoners in America
varied according to place and circumstances. There were prison-ships
at Boston, New London, and doubtless other towns, and jails on
shore were used (Boston Post, June 15, 1782; Mass. Court Rec.,
January 20, 1778; Mass. Rev. Rolls, viii, ix, xliv.) Captain
Henry Barnes and his crew, captured with his vessel on the passage
from Barbadoes to England by the American privateer Montgomery
in 1776 and taken to Rhode Island, were "treated with the
greatest kindness and civility." (Almon, iv, 159,160.) A
letter from Boston, in 1777, says: "Hard as my case may
appear to be, I bear it with patience. From the 3d day of my
captivity I have, with near ninety others, been confined a close
prisoner in a jail at this place lately erected, called the New-prison.
The Americans treat us very cavalierly. The provisions we are
allowed is barely sufficient to subsist on. My effects, to the
amount of upwards of £300. have been taken from me and
the bed I lie on is a bundle of straw." (London Chronicle,
September 2, 1777.) A letter from New London, a few months later,
says: "They behave very well to us." (lbid., January
6, 1778.) A better reputation is given to Boston by an English
shipmaster who had been exchanged. He writes: "The treatment
of the English prisoners there is exceedingly humane and kind."
(lbid., January 8, 1778.)

The situation of British marine prisoners
at Philadelphia was possibly not always what it should have been,
though as a rule not bad; their treatment was perhaps at times,
but only in special instances, governed by a spirit of retaliation
for the distress of Americans on the New York prison-ships. Admiral
Arbuthnot wrote to John Jay, President of Congress, August 30,
1779, complaining that two British officers were "in close
and cruel confinement at Philadelphia. I request that you will
assign satisfactory reasons for this treatment, that no improper
retaliation may take place here on our part." (Pap. Cont.
Congr., 78, 1, 313 (August 30, 1779) Congress investigated the
case of these two officers and found the reports of their ill-treatment
untrue. Just at this time, on account of the barbarous persecution
of Conyngham in New York, the Marine Committee ordered against
another British officer retaliatory measures which had recently
been voted in Congress, after a vain appeal to Commodore Collier
(Mar. Com. Letter Book, 230 (August 31, 1779); Almon, viii, 340,
341; Jour. Cont. Congr., July 17, 29, September 17, 1779.) Arbuthnot
wrote to Washington, April 21, 1781, again complaining of the
treatment of British naval prisoners, saying: "Permit me
now, Sir, to request that you will take the proper steps to cause
Mr. Bradford, your commissary, and the jailor at Philadelphia,
to abate that inhumanity which they exercise indiscriminately
upon all people, who are so unfortunate as to be carried into
that place. I will not trouble you, Sir, with a catalogue of
grievances further than to request that the unfortunate may feel
as little of the severities of war as the circumstances of the
time will permit; that in future they may not be fed in winter
with salted clams and that they may be afforded a sufficiency
of fuel." (Washington, ix, 120, 121. No further information
relating to the treatment of British prisoners has been discovered.)

At last, in the spring of 1782, Franklin was
able to inform Jay that the British Parliament had passed "an
act for exchanging American prisoners. They have near eleven
hundred in the jails of England and Ireland, all committed as
charged with high treason. The act is to empower the king, notwithstanding
such commitments, to consider them as prisoners of war, according
to the law of nations, and exchange them as such. This seems
to be giving up their pretensions of considering us as rebellious
subjects and is a kind of acknowledgment of our independence.
Transports are now taking up to carry back to their country the
poor, brave fellows who have borne for years their cruel captivity,
rather than serve our enemies, and an equal number of English
are to be delivered up in return." (Wharton, v, 326.) The
British ministry now ordered the exchange of all American prisoners.
A year later, April, 1783, came proclamations of the Continental
Congress and the British commanders in New York, the latter a
day or two in the lead, for the suspension of hostilities and
the release of all prisoners of war 9lbid., 439, 512, 548, 556,
vi, 369, 375, 377.)